


BlazBlue: Phenomenal Intervention

by Karin (Karinpon)



Category: BlazBlue
Genre: "transformative fiction" motherfuckers, Anal, Anal Sex, Anilingus, Bestiality, Biting, Boys in Skirts, Boys' Love, Catboys & Catgirls, Clothed Sex, Come as Lube, Crossdressing, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Eggs, Emasculation, Emetophilia, Erotic Electrostimulation, F/M, Femdom, Futadom, Futanari, Genital Torture, Gerontophilia, Guro, Hand Jobs, Homosexuality, Knotting, Latex, Lolicon, Lolidom, Lolita, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Multi, Non-Canon Relationship, Okama, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Other, POV Third Person Limited, Penises, Rough Oral Sex, Shapeshifting, Smegma, Sounding, Strap-Ons, Tea, Tentacles, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Urethral Play, Urination, Vomiting, Werewolf, Werewolf Sex, Yaoi, all the way through, but she's a vampire so she's really old, fucking obviously, lycanthrope, rubber maid, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karinpon/pseuds/Karin
Summary: Unable to suppress the urges any longer, Amane Nishiki has come up with a convoluted way to bring himself satisfaction. Probably. Little does he know, he is taking the first step into a world of erotic torment, whose ruler is a little vampire girl.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trick or treat!
> 
> (Final revision on release of 4th Chapter.)

Amane could not deny his heart anything it desired.

But he’d almost allowed himself to forget about dear Carl when that grizzled old gentleman had danced with him. Rachel’s butler: his new target, for the time being. Though he didn’t think the man would be up to joining his troupe—they needed fresher faces, anyway; and he wanted the butler in quite a different way.

There was something fascinating about the wear that old body showed, and the raw might all in spite of it… coupled with the perfect refinement of disposition… Amane wanted that man’s hands all over his body. But the logistics involved…

Would the little vampire girl stand in the way?

At least she recognised his talent. Reminding himself of that, he called at the door to her mansion. One had to be bold and take chances to get anything at all in this world. The bell resounded deeply—perhaps, if he paid attention, he could see the entire edifice before him vibrating.

A moment later, the double door parted, and at the top of the steps stood not the object of Amane’s desire, but a weird bat-pig creature. He would have accepted Rachel herself, but this… a minor annoyance. “Good evening,” he told the creature, for the moon was out in full. “I wondered if I might make a request of your mistress. Can you inform her of my presence?”

His plan was haphazard at best, but a plan it was: he would ingratiate himself before the girl in order to get friendly with her butler. He would cast himself into servitude, if she’d have him. _And how could she possibly say no?_ he asked himself. A performer such as he would certainly excel in the capacity of a servant! He wondered if the creature in the doorway could understand human language, however.

When he took a second glance, Rachel stood in its place. She wore her usual elegant attire; and her hair, tied up in two long, golden bunches, with a face-framing fringe, looked as good as ever. She did not appear pleased to see him. Her lack of expression, pointed as it was at him, demanded of him an explanation.

“Good evening, Miss Alucard,” he said, bowing deeply. When he peeked up he could see her expression had changed from one of utter indifference to a slight smile. “I wondered,” he continued, “if I might be so bold as to make a request of you over tea.”

There was a moment, perhaps a whole minute of silence.

“Hmph. Stand up, _dance god._ This simpering attitude doesn’t become you, and certainly not anyone I’d have over for tea, which, as it happens, is just starting. You may follow me inside.”

He stood, stepped slowly up the stairs, and followed her through the candlelit foyer. It hit him, suddenly, how small she was, even with those high-platform, heelless shoes, which, incidentally, were quite spectacular, though they required supernatural powers to walk in. If only she’d been a boy, he thought—and of a much lower class—he’d be on her like Carl Clover. She’d make a pretty boy.

“Stop,” she said, stopping ahead of him in a hallway. Had she picked up on his almost-dirty thoughts? Vampiric mind-reading?

“This is the room where we’ll have tea. Not only do I rotate tea rooms on the basis of the phase of the moon, but also on the status of my guests, so even I find it difficult to keep track. But this is definitely it.” She opened the door and went inside.

With a shuddering sigh he entered after her, and immediately became aware of how the full moon peered in above the balcony straight across from him. Most picturesque. An ornate, round table stood in the centre of the room, flanked by two chairs upholstered in leather. The vampire girl slid open the glass door to the balcony, letting in a cool breeze that tickled Amane in an unusual way. A subtle eroticism. Deliberate, he suspected. This had to be a room for very special guests. If the little vampire girl would suffer a lover, this is where she would woo him, Amane thought, then immediately admonished himself with a slap to the face.

He always let his weird fancies wander too far.

“Is something the matter?” Rachel enquired dispassionately. “You struck yourself.”

“Ah, no… this room is just too perfect, I had to be sure it wasn’t a dream.”

“Hm, it’s nothing special. Though it is designed for my most honoured guests...”

He had reasoned something along those lines. A fragrance permeated the air, stirred, rather than dispersed, by the breeze from the balcony.

“Have a seat, Amane Nishiki,” she said as she seated herself. “You had a request to make over tea? Truly, you chose an ideal setting for requests to be heard, as I would expect from a near equal.”

“You flatter me, my dear,” he said, sitting down across from her.

“Don’t be flattered. I am speaking matter-of-factly. Were you not so worthy of my consideration, you’d have found yourself cast out on your arse before even setting foot inside.”

“I… see...”

She gave a subtle smile again, and he tried not to see more in it than the mild respect that was all it could signify. Probably. Besides, he was really here for that delightful old butler, whose name he wished he could remember. Surely it’d come to him in due time.

A bell made the table tremble, different from the doorbell but doubtless comparable in volume.

Seeing Amane’s startled expression, Rachel explained, “That is to remind my servants that time is short, and tea belongs here now. So—and please keep the meat of our discussion for when we are served—along what lines is your request? Does it have to do with the Master Unit? The new Imperator?… Carl Clover?”

“Oh, none of that. But if we could fit in some talk about Carl, as an aside...”

“Interesting.” The bell rang again. Amane wondered if there was not a pedal beneath the table she used to ring it, resisting the urge to check.

Then the butler walked into the room, his manner stately as Amane remembered, with his beard well trimmed, and his long, silver hair tied at the end with a pretty ribbon. He bore a silver platter whereon sat two steaming cups of tea. Setting it on the table, he bowed and said, “Your pardon, madame. There was a scuffle over which tea should be served, but I settled it. We have rosehip tea, as is custom with guests of this calibre.”

The man’s voice made Amane’s skin tingle. Did he say rosehip tea? That would be considered an herbal infusion, and not real tea at all… but he wasn’t stupid enough to say something about it.

“Thank you, Valkenhayn,” said Rachel. So that was his name. A name of distinction, no doubt.

“Yes, many thanks!” Amane added impulsively and went to take a sip. “Mmh!” It was still too hot. He took care not to spill any as he set it back down.

“You are dismissed,” she told the butler, and he bowed once more before leaving. If Amane played his cards wrong, he may never see the man again.

“So what is it you wanted to discuss?”

“Ah...” He stirred his tea as he recalled his plan. “Yes, so… I would like to experience the servant’s life within your magnificent abode, if you’ll have me.”

She looked like she wanted to laugh. “Are you serious? Amane Nishiki, dance god, a lowly servant?”

He really had no clue what she meant by calling him such a grandiose thing. He was a mere performer, and as such, had gained some skill at improvising. “Oh, but just for some time,” he said. “I am a performer; I need to take on all roles so that nothing ever surprises me! I’ve never been a servant before, you see… and I hear it’s largely a great bother, but if I could do it in Rachel Alucard’s household, the honour would far outweigh any bother, I’m sure. So will you have me for a manservant?”

Rachel scooted back in her seat. “I would be happy with such a tasteful servant,” she said. “A bauble to set beside Valkenhayn R. Hellsing, and even slightly outshine him, perhaps. But there is some work involved on my part, in arranging this. To begin with, what are your measurements? Bust, waist, and hips, please.”

He was going to get a uniform, huh? He hoped it’d suit him. It took him but a second to recall and recount his effeminate measurements, assuming he’d not gained or lost any centimetres since last he checked.

“Is that so? Your shoulders aren’t very broad either. This won’t require too much material.” Rachel scribbled with a quill upon a legal pad she’d produced out of nowhere. “You can expect your uniform by the morrow, barring any screw-ups from Gii and Nago.” She set down her writing implements and sipped her tea. “On the subject of Gii and Nago, you’re certain to lighten the load on their inept backs. As you may have guessed, it’s difficult for me to keep servants who don’t owe me their very lives, so your whims are more than welcome. I hope they last.”

For the first time, Amane thought about what he was getting himself into. He came here in pursuit of Valkenhayn—what did he expect? That they’d run off to the countryside together? Stupid. Being close to Rachel’s butler meant being close to Rachel, being her servant. The one did not come without the other for any satisfying length of time. Would his whims last? He had left his troupe in capable hands, but it wasn’t supposed to be permanent…

“Your tea is growing cold.”

So it was. He gulped it down. It tasted better cold than did real tea.

#

The servants’ quarters consisted of a few fantastically furnished apartments, each with a bed and a vanity, a mirror and a closet. The bat-like creature was nowhere in sight, however; perhaps it served as Rachel’s pillow. Amane’s apartment lay directly across the hall from Valkenhayn’s, an arrangement second only to them being bunkmates.

The man’s door stood ajar, inviting Amane to peer inside. But he wasn’t quite so impulsive. And after a listen, he heard snoring. The butler slept with his lights on, it seemed. Can’t blame him, in this place. Though Rachel’s abode was extravagant and possessed a dream-like quality throughout, every odd shadow with nothing obvious to cast it hinted at lurking nightmares to Amane.

In his room, illumined as it was by many candles, he carefully removed his garments, which were a delicate sort he dared not sleep in—though he danced and fought in them just fine. Folding his clothes, he set them upon a chair in the corner, removing the pins from his hair and laying them on top. Now, donning nought but a red fundoshi, he inspected his bed; under the silken covers, beneath the pillow—who knew what kind of bedbugs this place might harbour…

But it was all clean, clear of any such pests or the tiniest crumb. All it had was the smell of roses, though not a petal could be seen in the room. He grew extremely sleepy all of a sudden, and almost succumbed before he could lie on the bed.

‘Twas an agreeable face that roused him from oblivion.

“Ah, you’ve awoken,” said Valkenhayn. “The mistress has assigned me to ensure you make it to the lounge, where your uniform and duties await you. Please, follow me.”

“But I’m not dressed,” Amane began to protest, then thought better, uncovering himself and climbing out of bed. “I guess it saves time if I go like this—I am to dress when we arrive, after all.”

“Mm,” Valkenhayn nodded and began to lead the way. His eyes did not linger on Amane’s bare skin a second too long, much to the performer’s disappointment. _All in good time,_ he thought to himself. It would be better to wait for his morning wood to die down, anyway.

When they made it to the landing, Amane shuddered. It was a cool autumn morning, and he doubted this old place had modern heating—but more than that, Rachel stood at the bottom, glaring up at his near-nude form. He swallowed, steeling himself as he followed the butler down toward her. Unfortunately, he was steeled in more ways than one; his fundoshi tightened.

Well, the vampire girl had to have lived a very long life, despite her appearance. For all Amane knew, she was more familiar with erect penises than he himself was. He told himself this, not entirely convinced.

“You seem to be in good health,” she commented when he reached the bottom. He could feel his face flush red, though he was somewhat relieved. “Over here, the coffee table.”

He followed her to an ornate coffee table. Did she drink coffee? He guessed the stuff did not merit as much ritual as tea clearly did for her. But there was no drink in sight, only a stack of clothing on the polished wooden surface. Red, rubbery clothing. Curious.

“You look like a girl with your hair down,” Rachel said, a hint of mirth in her voice. “No, with it up, too. This design should be perfect for you, Amane Nishiki. I hope you like it.”

When people suggested he looked like a girl, it was never made clear whether they meant it to mock him, or as a compliment. Nevertheless, he, as a performer, with his long violet hair and propensity for painting his face, could appreciate it. He enjoyed female roles.

He unravelled the uniform. An elegant design; red latex, with white details of the same material, including an apron. There was an accompaniment of red over-elbow gloves, with white ribbons at the ends, and stockings of a similar design, which, judging by their weight, and the high heels and platforms on their bottoms, doubled as boots. A magical material, latex. And these garments were oiled inside and out. He began dressing immediately.

The uniform was a girl’s maid uniform, kind of erotic—the pleated skirt barely covered his buttocks. This all did nothing to subdue his erection, though the pleats did a good job of hiding it. “I-I’m grateful for this fine attire,” he said. The heels would take some getting used to, however—their height was about double what he had experience with.

“Take these spare hair-ties,” Rachel said, proffering a couple white ribbons. These ribbons were made of silk or something similar, unlike the rubber ribbons that decorated his uniform. He took them gladly, and tied up his hair in two voluminous bunches, leaving a fair fringe to compliment his face. He hoped the style, similar as it was to Rachel’s, would please her and her butler.

“Hm, you should grow your hair out a little more. At any rate, your training starts now. Valkenhayn will instruct you and tend to your needs, whatever they may be. When you’re ready, I’ll assign your tasks personally.”

So saying, the little vampire girl melted into the shadows of her halls. Amane stood alone with Valkenhayn, as though fate were conspiring to grant his wishes. The man was instructed to tend to his needs… whatever they may be?… Still, caution seldom went amiss. “Valkenhayn-sama… do you find me attractive?”

Caution, of course, ought to be tempered with a calculated submission to impulse in order to bring about what one desires. That made more sense to Amane before he put it into practice.

“A-ah…”

“Forget I asked such a strange question and let’s put me to work!”

“No, forgive me, Nishiki-san—I hadn’t come prepared for such a probing. You’re a beautiful young man, in my estimation.”

Amane’s heart leapt. He parted his lips as if to respond, but knew not what to say.

“I may have more to say on your appearance, if I give it some thought, but I have a duty to train you, first and foremost. Come with me, if you will—have you ever held a broom?”

He couldn’t say he had.

#

Amane couldn’t remember the last time he’d worked up such a sweat.

Dusting, sweeping, then mopping… hundreds of rooms—from the outside, the mansion didn’t seem capable of holding half that many, but his body would remember the truth. He pictured the outside of the building in his head, almost reminiscing of that innocent, indolent time before his plan had gone into action.

“Mm,” said the butler, “that is enough work for now. You’ve learned a lot, and proven your worth as a house servant. Tea time is fast approaching. Madame would have us both attend.”

“Tea… I could certainly use something to drink, and somewhere to sit. I appreciate all of your work in instructing me, Valkenhayn-sama.”

“It was nothing. Let us move to the tea room.”

So they moved, the old man leading the way. Amane couldn’t remember even approximately where anything was, which didn’t bode well for his future as a servant.

He was certain, however, that this tea room differed from the last one. The lighting, the colours, even the smell suggested more of business than of romance. A mild disappointment. Rachel sat at the table, this one having three chairs; she read a book with the curious title, “ONE THOUSAND AND ONE EROTIC TORTURES,” and no visible author attribution. Amane could not help but wonder at the doll-like immortal’s sex life.

“Please, be seated,” Valkenhayn told him. “I shall bring the tea posthaste.” And he left.

Not needing to be told twice, tired as he was, Amane pulled out a chair across from Rachel and fell into it. He wanted to make idle chatter, but she seemed positively absorbed in that book—best not to disturb. Instead, he breathed deeply, leaned back, and relaxed his muscles.

“Hrnya,” the chair creaked, startlingly. And before Amane knew what was going on, the black arms of the chair had changed shape and fastened around his waist. This was it, then, wasn’t it? One thousand and one erotic tortures, about to commence. Amane, rather certain he was not ready to go so far, struggled, clutching at the oddly velvety restraints.

“Gah, what is this?!”

Rachel looked up from her book. “Nago,” she said, “unhand my new servant. You know what could happen if you don’t.”

“Hrnya,” the chair whined, loosening its grip; then it slipped out from under Amane—so it seemed, until his arse made contact with wood. Whatever it was had only covered the chair. “Hime-sama,” the slightly deep voice whined again, drawing Amane’s attention to a big black blob off to his side, which took the shape of a gargantuan, and very fat, black cat. “I don’t trust this strange man. Please, let me stay and keep watch at least!”

“I won’t allow it.” She laid the book on its pages. “You are to mind your own business, on the other side of the house.” With a wave of her hand, the cat-blob vanished in a puff of smoke, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging open until nothing more could be seen of him. Then, unaffected, she resumed reading.

Getting comfortable once more, Amane thought aloud, “He seems overprotective.”

“Jealous,” she said. “He’s jealous of other men, that’s all. Now, let me ask: do you prefer penises?”

It was like being snapped awake. “Come again?”

Rachel shut her book, and elaborated: “Do you prefer penises, to what girls have?”

Straightening up in his chair, Amane said, “That is a strange question to ask someone all of a sudden...”

“Shut up and tell me.”

He didn’t really need to think about it, if he had to answer. “I do. I prefer men and boys of all ages, hairy and masculine like Valkenhayn-sama, and ones that look like girls, too.”

She smiled, more discernibly than ever before. “I thought so,” she said. “I was curious. My servants mustn’t have any secrets whatsoever from me.”

Amane, a little emboldened, looked around to ensure Valkenhayn hadn’t returned, and said, “In that case, I will be completely honest: I came here in order to be close to your butler, with whom I am deeply infatuated. Valkenhayn-sama is the reason I offered myself to serve you.”

Rachel giggled. “Of course, I knew you had some ulterior motive. Most fortunate for yourself, I am not at all displeased with this revelation. I’ll be happy to assist, even. What can I do? Order him to ravish you? Assign you to the same apartment and see what happens?”

“Ah—no, this is… moving a little fast, isn’t it?”

“Nonsense. You’re my servant now, too, so it’ll move as fast as I wish, won’t it?” She seemed positively gleeful as she stood up from her chair. “We can make this timeline the most satisfying one yet!”

Amane’s bold reveal had stirred something wicked indeed. And as his mind tried to formulate a way to calm the winds, Valkenhayn arrived with the silver platter, bearing three cups of steaming hot tea, and that air about him that turned Amane into the sort of senseless fool who had got into this mess. Hopeless.

Rachel sat back down, and Amane regained some composure as Valkenhayn placed the platter before him and sat down beside. Things were turning out as he’d wanted them to, more or less; he _would_ get intimate with the charming butler. What did it matter if a perverted little vampire girl helped it along? Certainly, some of the magic of the initial fantasy had been dispelled, but only to be supplanted with a darker magic that got results.

“Valkenhayn,” Rachel said into her teacup, “from this night onward you shall tend to Amane Nishiki’s sexual needs. Write me a full report to read with breakfast tomorrow, and the day after, and so on.”

In a fit of incontrovertible surprise, the butler coughed up his last sip of tea. “Ahem,” he recovered, “it would be my utmost pleasure to do all you request, madame.”

He almost felt sorry for the old man, who could not say no. But perhaps, in a world without Rachel, they would have come together just the same. Amane focused on finishing his soothing tea. It was real tea this time. Good, for the night ahead.

#

“I have a confession to make, Nishiki-san.”

They stood in the dim, romantic candlelight of the butler’s apartment, beside his large, canopied bed, the door closed.

“Ah, is it that you wanted me from the moment you saw me?” Amane placed his hand on the man’s bare, muscular shoulder. His lovely physique belied the age shown in everything else about him.

“No—I mean, to be sure, I always desired you on some level, and someone like you before we met. A beautiful young man who could pass for an equally beautiful woman whensoever he chose… but that is not my confession. You see, I am a lycanthrope. A wolf-man.”

“Should that bother me? You appear, at least, as quite a man.”

He gripped Amane gently by the wrist. “At this moment, I do. But when we… make love, I won’t be able to control my form. That is to say, I shall be a wolf, and not a man. Unless I take the passive role, maybe, but even then there’s no certainty… and I would rather not…”

This was something to process. One of Valkenhayn’s stature demanded a thoroughly active role in any such activity with Amane, but at the same time… a wolf. Was it possible? He had heard stories… and everything was likely to fit. This wasn’t the stage, moreover; Amane’s pride wouldn’t be hurt by the strange venture. And he could not doubt that Valkenhayn would be as handsome a wolf as he was a man.

“Man or wolf,” Amane said after a pause, “I’ll have you inside me.”

He kissed the tough, old skin above the line of well groomed white facial hair, and lowered to his knees, pulling down the man’s trousers as he did. Towering over a meadow of black and grey hair was a formidable brown organ at full mast. Fully as dignified as the man to whom it was attached. Amane tasted the tip with his tongue, eliciting a manly moan.

“Y-you really don’t mind?” the butler said.

“Not at all, if it’s you, Valkenhayn-sama. I’ve decided.”

His cock twitched in Amane’s hand. “Then I won’t hold back,” he said. “Don’t be angry with me.”

The refinement of his disposition had begun to slough away. Sensuality did that to people, Amane knew all too well. But for the time being, the wolf-man was still simply a man, albeit quite well endowed—Amane could barely touch the tip of his finger to the tip of his thumb around the stiff member. He stroked it lovingly, fondling the balls when his hand slid down to the base, licking it here and there all the while.

“Augh,” Valkenhayn exclaimed. His cock bulged strangely in the middle, and new hairs sprang up around it.

“Is something the matter, Valkenhayn-sama?”

“It’s happening!” His voice changed. “I’m impressed… how quickly you brought it on...”

Recoiling onto his backside, Amane watched the transformation with more fascination than fear. The man grew bigger, hairier, his face changing completely but for the facial hair, which only spread, darkening in large areas: he was not a man any longer, but a beast. “Valkenhayn-sama...” Even so… Amane was ready for him. Coquettishly, he turned on his hands and knees so that his butt faced the beast; more decisively, he flipped up the back pleats of his rubber skirt.

Valkenhayn howled. In what seemed a split second, his big, hairy palms were on Amane’s hips, and his hot breath induced palpitations. Transformed Valkenhayn was not a stupid brute; Amane shuddered as the huge, slimy tongue slid across a buttock; then his fundoshi was torn, making it a useless strip of cloth which fell between his knees. Valkenhayn’s giant animal tongue tasted Amane’s tight arsehole, causing the ring of muscle to quiver expectantly. Amane himself merely panted, like the bitch in heat whose role he found he could play so well.

The tongue slipped inside, stretching him out, making him wet and soft—perfect. Already, he came, contributing to the slime that dripped from his penis, most of it being the wolf’s saliva; but this was far from over. He didn’t have long to wait for Valkenhayn to mount him, the warm, heavy body straining his back terribly; once the strange, bulky beast-cock slipped inside with startling ease, the pressure on Amane’s back became more intermittent.

The hard, smooth organ thrust to his deepest fastnesses, retrieving itself just as quickly, only to slam in again. Amane ejaculated once more after a second of this, moaning like a female whore, certain that Rachel could hear, no matter how far away in the mansion she was—being observed even in that way excited him. If nobody observed it, nothing could confirm that his dream had come true, even in this highly perverted form.

The beast filled and vacated his belly rapidly, fucking him silly; he drooled like a bitch, too. Amane’s bowels filled with thick semen, which flowed continuously from the indefatigable wolf-butler, making him more and more slimy. He cried as he reached another climax; his entire being seemed almost to shift into a remote space, and return with an explosion of pleasure each thrust. “V-Valk-sama...” he whined as he was fucked. Amane had been with many lovers through unremembered years—lifetimes, perhaps—but never one to compare with Valkenhayn. Vicious, brutal, his aura as dignified as ever.

Amane could not fathom how long this went on. It had thrust him into a delirium well before he could say it stopped. He lost consciousness at one point, only to regain it on his back, large, hairy hands holding his legs up in the air as his anus throbbed, something very large lodged within.

He could see the man begin to regain the form of a man, lessening the pain in his bottom, and eventually slipping out completely. That grizzled, noble face smiled down at Amane.

“I think,” Valkenhayn said, “I can just about muster the strength to bring us both into my bed for the rest of the night.”

And he did that, picking Amane up under his back and legs and carrying him onto the fragrant mattress. Amane stretched, and fell asleep.

When he woke up, he was alone in the bed. Of course, butlers had duties. But hadn’t he, as well? He found he was fully dressed, apart from his missing fundoshi. This uniform was made for fucking in, he decided; maybe Rachel had known all along what he’d get up to.

He got out of bed, feeling sticky and filthy—it was a wonderful feeling that kept last night’s events fresh in memory, but it felt a little uncouth to do housework like this. He lay back down in the bed.

Someone would come get him. He’d lose his way trying to find the baths on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

The steaming water in the massive pewter tub had what seemed to be rose petals floating on the surface. Apart from that, its clearness was preternatural. Nothing less for Rachel. Assuming vampires bathed, of course. Amane had heard they were allergic to water. It could just be for her favoured servants.

“Please, before it cools,” said Valkenhayn who stood beside. “No need to undress. You and your clothing are to wash simultaneously, Madame has said.”

He supposed it possible, though it had to smell within the boots by now. “It’s fine if I take them off once in?” he queried as he entered.

“I’d assume so… it was not proscribed. And now,” the butler bowed, “I have to bid you adieu, Nishiki-san. My duties are needed elsewhere.”

“Ah, I had hoped we could bathe together.” Amane sank in, his gaze drifting in search of soap.

“My apologies. Next time, if I am for but a moment free, I will happily share a bath.” With those words, Valkenhayn departed from the bathroom.

A relaxing quarter, dim, with candles burning in high places. Amane still could not find the soap; he began rubbing himself down with the fragrant water, and soon no longer cared to find it. All his tension ebbed away. He wanted to fall asleep here, but then remembered he still had his hair to wash, and felt for the ribbons on his head.

Before he could untie his hair, however, Rachel startled him.

She stood a pace from the side of the tub, looking in.

“G-good day, madame!” Amane said. He was not sure whether it was morning, noon, or night by now.

“Good afternoon,” replied the girl. “And my, how little you’ve done today, Nishiki-chan. Only a few hours remain till tea.”

“I’m sorry… I was exhausted, and didn’t remember my way around to wake myself up with a wash, so I merely fell back asleep. It shan’t happen again.”

She made a sound like the tip of a giggle, quickly suppressed. “It doesn’t matter overmuch. You contributed satisfactorily to the amount of work that gets done here yesterday, so such temporal ineptitude can be forgiven.” She adjusted the fringe of her hair. “Your performance in the bedroom left something to be desired, however.”

Amane recoiled as if stricken, making a splash in the tub. “What?!”

“I suppose it comes with the passive role, being rather boring. Don’t act surprised—Valkenhayn relayed the whole incident to me in manuscript, as you might recall me ordering. You did make some interesting sounds, I’ll give you that, but the writing gives the impression you could have performed your role better. Perhaps Valkenhayn’s hand is to blame, and I’ll have to see for myself?”

Amane didn’t know how to respond to her question, or if she even wanted an answer. It was really a suggestion, he figured, and one for which his feelings proved difficult to discern.

“Well, there are some things I have to decide how to go about, and my decisions will be elucidated at tea. I have one petty curiosity that could be immediately sated, however. Show me your penis.” She took a step closer to the side of the tub.

“A-ah, why do you want to see that? It’s nothing interesting.”

“Did you mistake that for a request, Nishiki-chan? You have made yourself my servant. Now let me see.”

Shuddering, he hesitated not a second longer, and lifted the front pleats of his skirt under the water.

“Hm, it’s not even hard. Moreover, the surface of the water distorts its appearance. What a bother.” So saying, Rachel rolled up her sleeves and leaned over the side of the tub, reaching in. Amane flinched, then forced himself to recall his place, his status.

At least her grasp was gentle. She fondled his whole apparatus, from balls to prepuce, and seemed to smile slightly as it made him hard. “Really, though, this is such a tedium, getting the male organ to a useful state.” She coiled her small hand around his hardening shaft and stroked. “It’s one of the reasons I prefer toys… Well now, I’d say the size and feel are decent. Not that it matters to me. I have to know these things, that is all.” Unhanding him, she straightened up. “I’m certain Ragna’s is even more formidable, though I’ve not had a chance to touch or even see it yet.” She lowered her eyelids as if trying to picture it behind them.

Amane remembered seeing her interact with Ragna the Bloodedge. “Isn’t he what you’d call… an inferior creature?”

Rachel giggled openly. “You of all people should know that a dog has his uses. Even an ugly, tactless, unintelligent one like Ragna.”

So she wanted him. His well groomed brother was far more to Amane’s liking. He wondered what the boys might be up to.

“I’ll be on my way,” Rachel said with a brief curtsey. “Business to attend, levers to pull to ensure our joyful little intervention continues unchallenged.” With that, she left Amane alone in the tub.

Alone with his irritated erection. He still couldn’t find the soap.

#

A relaxing, red-carpeted lounge with a round wooden table, large, around which four chairs were arranged. Waning light filtered in through velvety draperies. He hadn’t seen this room before. “Valkenhayn-sama, what goes on here?”

The response came after a minute of dusting. “It is the game room, where sometimes the princess and I play cards and other board games. Nago and Gii often join in, as it can get desperate for players.”

“It’s a cosy place—I wouldn’t mind sitting in on one of your games, or even playing along one of these days.”

“That’s quite all right, Nishiki-san. Please, sweep the crumbs off the carpet. Gii and Nago played here by themselves yesterday, and they left behind more or less what one would expect.”

Amane hadn’t noticed any crumbs. What he had noticed, however, was an unsavoury change in Valkenhayn’s disposition. From the moment they came into contact again after Amane’s bath, the man had been cold and curt, quiet in general and mechanical in his responses, all business. He wasn’t the man who had attracted Amane to this mansion.

Or maybe he was. Amane’s actions had been rather… thoughtless. But when he looked at the man, no matter how unreciprocal his present behaviour, Amane could not help but feel the same old spark of infatuation. He couldn’t go on like this for much longer—something needed to be clarified.

“Valkenhayn-sama, have you grown bored of me? Have I become an annoyance?”

The man was positively taken aback. “W-what could have given you that idea, Nishiki-san?”

“You seem distant, and didn’t even look at me until now, ever since I finished my bath. Something is the matter.” He thought back. “Does it have to do with Madame Rachel?”

Looking down, lowering his feather duster, Valkenhayn sighed. “Indeed, it has to do with the princess.” Meeting Amane’s gaze, he continued, “She has told me that she’ll have you tonight. It’s worrying. I’ve never known her to be with men, although she has molested me a few times—it’s not the same. I have to ensure you don’t hurt her!”

Amane felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. So this is what it was all about. “There is nothing to worry about, Valkenhayn-sama, for you see… I have vowed never to put it inside a girl!” He allowed his tone to take on something of the dramatic before wavering to a murmur. “Never in the front anyway...”

The butler’s eyes widened, and immediately Amane regretted his loose tongue.

“Nishiki-san, this will not do. But… there is nothing I can do, if the princess has made up her mind. Except…” Valkenhayn lunged forward and dropped to his knees.

“A-ah—what are you doing?”

He lifted the front pleats of Amane’s skirt. “It’s all I can do working within the greater parameters of my duties.” So saying, Valkenhayn took Amane’s soft cock in his surprisingly moist old mouth, his beard tickling his balls.

“You’re not going to eat me, are you, Valkenhayn-sama?”

He sucked as he drew his head back to reply. “In a figurative sense, I am. Amane Nishiki, I will suck all the life out of your manhood, so I know for sure Madame Rachel is safe.”

He didn’t object. It was all the attention he could hope for from the object of his desire. “But aren’t you a little unpractised at this?”

Stroking Amane’s hardening shaft, the butler said, “You may not think it to look at me now, but I was quite the cock-sucker in my youth, thanks to one school I spent some time in. The methods aren’t easily forgot.”

And so he took Amane back in his mouth, skilfully employing his tongue, the vacuum of his cheeks… the performer couldn’t have done it better himself. He had to close his eyes as Valkenhayn sucked his cock, for such a slutty appearance just wouldn’t befit the respectable old man. The way the facial hair tickled him made it difficult to keep the image out of his head, however.

“I’m coming—!” Amane gasped. Then the man slowed, turning his ministrations down in efficacy. He really wanted to get all he could out of him. “You are fairly experienced...” He brought one hand down to stroke the lustrous grey head.

His cock throbbed within Valkenhayn’s mouth, nearly to the point of being painful, when at last he did come. The butler grunted disagreeably, but quickly swallowed all the spend, and continued sucking, getting every last drop. It seemed he’d succeeded in what he set out to do. A couple minutes later, he let Amane’s soft, spent member slip out between his thin old lips.

“Sweet,” Valkenhayn said. “As expected.”

“You’re sweet, Valkenhayn-sama. That aside, I’ve got some sweeping to do.”

“Of course. Work will also soften you and make you more palatable to Madame Rachel.” The man stood and handed Amane his feather duster, grinning. “You may finish mine as well.”

He had semen in his beard, but Amane neglected to mention it. “What will you do, then?”

“I will take a chair, and marvel at the beauty of your limbs in motion.”

Valkenhayn knew how to make doubling the workload sound appealing to Amane.

#

Were the old wolf’s efforts all in vain?

By the time he told Amane work was finished, two new erections had spontaneously come and gone. Being watched, wearing certain clothing, always excited him _in that way._ It didn’t help that he still awaited replacement underwear. His body would be all too ready for whatever the vampire girl had planned. And now was tea time—the hour of elucidation.

Just thinking about it began to bring on his third new erection.

Unsuspecting, Valkenhayn led him through the halls to tonight’s drinking site. Amane didn’t think the butler’s fear’s well founded at all; if he should fear for anyone’s safety, he thought, it should be  _his,_ not Rachel’s. Least of all was Rachel’s safety to be feared for…

They halted in front of a door. “This is it,” the butler said. “I asked the princess that she allow me to sit in on the affair, but my request was denied.” He almost choked on the words. “She had said, ’Maybe next time, if you maintain good behaviour.’ Well, don’t let this old man keep you.”

Amane threw his arms around him. “Oh, Valkenhayn-sama,” he murmured into his ear, “I’m sure we can all play together some day.”

“That would make me happy.” He groped Amane’s butt; the gentlest gesture. “But please, do not keep Madame Rachel waiting. I may yet glimpse what goes on between the two of you tonight, for I still have to serve the tea.”

Slowly breaking away, Amane gripped the brass handle of the door and turned it, walking through. The smell on the breeze told all. He had been in this room before.

Candles high and low flickered around the table where Rachel seated herself opposite an empty chair. Only when Amane took the seat did he realise a difference in the girl’s attire. And quite a difference it was.

What she now had donned could be approximately described as underwear, except it was all of black latex with red trimming and odd cuts eliciting thoughts of bat wings, and it included a pair of stockings, her usual shoes worn over them. Her chair was set some distance back from the table, allowing Amane to see everything, to feast his eyes on her sexy attire, her smooth, pale skin. Another thing that struck him was her figure, which possessed rather mature proportions, despite being small and having no breasts to speak of.

“Do not lie to appease your master,” she said: “am I attractive to you?”

Amane didn’t really have to think about it. Though she was a girl, her underdevelopment in the chest area contributed to the general impression of a pretty, long-haired boy with a chubby arse. Those were something of a favourite of his. He couldn’t exactly phrase it that way to her, though.

“It could prove troublesome to go into details,” he said, “but I am quite turned on by your body, your outfit, and your general beauty.”

She flinched. “My b-body? Well, you do like boys, don’t you?” She rose from her seat. “It doesn’t offend me to be seen that way by you. In fact, it’s fitting for what we have planned for tonight.”

“Why, what ever do you mean?”

“Gii!” she called. Within a second the stupid-looking bat-pig creature flew to her side. “How do we amuse ourselves like powerful men?”

“Hime-sama,” it whined pathetically, “I have to do _that_ again?”

“Why the show of reluctance? Is it not the greatest honour to be Madame Rachel’s own thick, black cock that would put a horse to shame?”

Things were about to take a turn for the strange. Amane felt it, and he could not help but succumb to incredible curiosity.

“Of course it is the greatest honour!”

“Then stop wasting time and transform. You’re behaving as if you don’t enjoy it...”

Swallowing, the creature changed its shape into a ball. Its reddish-purplish colour darkened till it was nearly black, and it fell into Rachel’s open palms. There, it stretched itself out, moulding itself into a double-ended phallic shape, with all the rude details like ridges and veins.

“Thicker, Gii. And a little longer. You’ve got everything to prove.”

The creature no longer spoke, for its face had vanished, but it grew exactly as Rachel commanded. Her gaze ran admiringly along its length as she stroked it. Amane had never seen one half that big.

“This is my penis,” she said. “You’ll appreciate it when it’s attached to me, Nishiki-chan. Give me but a moment.”

It oozed white stuff from both ends in her grasp as she pulled out the front of her panties and slipped one end between the latex and her female sex. “Gii, you’re ejaculating too early,” she said. “Well, I suppose the slipperiness will help get things under way.” Holding the daemonic organ with both hands, she shoved the end inside herself, moaning and gasping intermittently. The weird display made Amane undeniably stiff under his skirt.

And the huge, dark, drivelling organ had become a part of her. She stroked it lovingly, pointing it at Amane. “How do you behave,” she said, “when master shows you their cock?”

So it seemed tea would be delayed. Leaving his seat, Amane knelt before her, getting his face close to the thick, wrinkly shaft which pointed toward the shadowed ceiling. “Ah, it stinks.”

“Isn’t it an accurate imitation? There’s even gunk for your tongue to shovel out of the folds of the skin, if it strikes your fancy—I won’t force you to go _that_ far with that pretty mouth of yours, although it would be endearing…”

He took it by the shaft and began to stroke it above Rachel’s own grasp. It was long enough to kill him, if its wielder had the horse’s strength to match it; but the vampire girl seemed just as much enthralled to it as Amane, regardless of how she related. The miserable bat-pig made a wonderful cock. “I think,” he pulled it close and gave it a little lick, “I think I will clean your pet well.”

Rachel tugged on one of his bunches as he began washing her massive, dark purple cock all over with his tongue. Then a knocking came to the door. The start it gave her nearly cost Amane a good tuft of hair, but she was quick to regain her composure. “Enter, Valkenhayn.”

The door slowly creaked ajar, and the old man stepped in and laid a tray on the table behind Amane. He heard all this, and perhaps the subtlest puppy-whine of disappointment or envy. He didn’t let his feelings through in his usual well ordered speech: “Your tea, Rachel-sama, Nishiki-san.”

Amane could almost hear him bowing and turning on his heel. He tried to focus on the job in front of him, slipping his tongue under Rachel’s foreskin, eliciting the meekest moan. Her smegma was quite sour, rather unpleasant—she wasn’t likely to blame for that, unless she could be faulted for never bathing that creature. The drying slime it had managed to stop gushing continuously, that tasted better.

“Wait, Valkenhayn,” she said, “you have earned a treat after many years of unparalleled service. Take this bitch from behind while I deal with his pretty face.”

Such harsh language. It wasn’t something that Amane would have had at all before coming here. Now it made his cock twitch delightedly. And that was all apart from the exciting prospect of being fucked in both ends simultaneously. He swallowed the sour smegma, and sent his tongue in search of more—Rachel seemed to enjoy the search.

“R-Rachel-sama,” Valkenhayn gasped. “It would be the greatest honour!”

Immediately his big, callused hands were upon Amane’s buttocks, squeezing and pulling; after a moment, he pressed his hairy face up against him. The man’s tongue was as good as the wolf’s.

“Amane,” she said, “my cock has grown bored of just your tongue. Can’t you fit it inside your mouth?”

He paused in his efforts and sized up the organ. His mouth was somewhat large, but this would be a stretch. “I will try,” he declared, holding it tight near the middle of the shaft. His tongue enveloped the sour glans, inviting it further on, and even that proved a challenge. Amane stroked the monstrous cock with both hands as he sucked on the tip, his tongue gliding beneath the foreskin. Rachel let out a stuttering moan.

“It’s a start. Perhaps your jaw will make more room when Valkenhayn takes his part seriously.”

The man’s tongue froze up in Amane’s anus at the implication. It was becoming boring, but the reluctance to transform he could understand. Withdrawing his tongue, Valkenhayn wasted no time in prodding at Amane’s slick hole with his cock. The man could already be felt changing, his hands sprouting a coat of fur, his rubbery cock-head smoothing out, growing, attaining a stranger shape as it slipped inside. Amane’s excited cry was stopped on the back of his tongue by Rachel’s glans.

It strained the muscles of his jaw, having got far. He tried his best to make it feel good with his mouth as Valkenhayn slammed inside him, leaving copious pre-come in his wake. By now he must have taken on his beastly form.

Holding onto Amane’s hair, Rachel began to fuck his face with the tip of her cock, making him gag repeatedly, his eyes watering. She panted as her soft, white hips thrust the inhuman organ into his throat. He removed one of his hands from her shaft to touch himself, squeezing his erection while trying to stroke hers, although it proved somewhat difficult as she moved.

Valkenhayn made frightening sounds in his animal lust, his wolf-cock hitting deep within Amane’s belly again and again. Hot slime gushed out around it with each thrust, running down Amane’s thighs, perineum, and balls. Enough of the stuff pooled in his hand to lend a welcome glide to his self-ministrations.

“Mmh,” Rachel gasped. “I can feel your stomach acid burning the tip of my dirty penis. I want it all over.” She forced herself in nearly to the base, making him choke and heave. “Ah! Your pretty little throat is so tight and hot.”

He thought he was going to die. Her inhuman organ pulsated within his stinging throat as Valkenhayn’s made his arse slimy and numb. He had lost the strength to play with himself, but could tell something shot out of his cock anyway, enough to make it ache.

One last hard thrust into his gurgling throat, just as he’d begun to faint, and Rachel held back a shriek as her cock bulged inside him, unleashing a torrent of thick spend which he still had the mind to work hard swallowing. And she retrieved herself like a snake from his gullet, allowing him to breathe.

He couldn’t long appreciate the new freedom as Valkenhayn’s clawed hand pushed him cheek-first to the hardwood floor.

“Now this is quite a show,” Rachel said. “Valkenhayn must not be able to remember enough from when he’s a wolf to write well about it. How disappointing…” She squatted down beside Amane’s head and played with his hair. “This means I’ll have to take part from now on—Valkenhayn’s pen just won’t make the cut.”

Had Amane been less enmeshed he might have asked himself what was the point of it all. He could not question the wolf-butler’s giant knot slipping into his slimy rectum, the rank scent of the vampire girl’s magical cock as he swallowed it whole moments prior, or the adorable sounds she made all the while. These sensations made life interesting, and he hoped to share in them a good long while.

Would the tea stay warm?


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed rooms appeared out of nowhere in this mad mansion. Rachel had called it her provisional residence, so Amane feared to imagine what it might be like to clean Castle Alucard proper. His workload having doubled maybe had a lot to do with his perception of rooms appearing out of nowhere, however. And Valkenhayn’s admiration from a seat at a short distance could only push him so far.

“I need a rest, Valkenhayn-sama. What’s the point in wearing me out, when our mistress wants nothing to do with my sexual prowess anyway?”

The man looked like he was nodding off in the cloth-upholstered chair beside a grey, oblong table. He uncrossed his legs and answered, “Forgive me, Nishiki-san. Old as I am, I tend to overestimate the amount of energy in your young bodies.” He stood up.

“Ah, please don’t use the ‘I’m a poor, withered old man,’ angle on me, Valkenhayn-sama. We’re all allowed to be lazy from time to time; but one must also consider whether one’s fellow man can pick up the slack. Exhaustion begets half-measures, and we don’t want those, do we?”

“We most certainly do not! Let us trade places for the nonce.” Valkenhayn stepped aside, opening up the way.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Amane went for the seat, making himself comfortable atop the lingering warmth. He had made to hand over the broom and feather duster when the wolf-butler unbuttoned his trousers, letting out his big, brown erection.

“But first,” he said, “won’t you relieve me with that mouth of yours? It may take all my willpower, but I can control the transformation, so as not to multiply the work we have to do here.”

Well, Amane’s mouth certainly was not tired. He laid the broom on the floor, and tucked the duster in his apron pocket. “As your direct subordinate in Madame Rachel’s household,” he declared, “I will try my best!”

Valkenhayn brought his cock near. “Do not work too hard too quickly, Nishiki-san.”

The man flinched as Amane poked his tongue out to touch it, but relaxed promptly, laying a hand on his head. He drew circles with his tongue around the crown of the organ, holding off on anything good till the man could grow accustomed to the sensations as a _man,_ for Amane suspected he was not in the habit of resisting the transformation even this long. Stroking Valkenhayn’s shaft with one hand, reaching down between his legs to fondle himself with the other, he gradually progressed his technique.

His tongue darted to and fro along all sides of the shaft, finally returning to the head, enveloping, sucking. The old butler moaned, cringing, and Amane feared perhaps he’d moved a little fast after all, but it was difficult to resist going all out on such a fine organ—not that he hadn’t exerted some control over himself…

When Amane paused, Valkenhayn sighed and stroked his hair. “You are ravenous,” he said. “But my willpower is paramount.”

With that encouragement, Amane stepped up his game, slipping his tongue under the foreskin. The old timer gasped appreciatively as Amane worked, slobbering and sucking, scooping up the traces of smegma which tasted better than Rachel’s, a bit salty rather than sour. Before long the cock had slid in along his tongue, tickling his uvula threateningly. He hadn’t eaten much of anything since coming here, so a little vomit wouldn’t be too much trouble if it came to that. With his thrust Valkenhayn moved things along quicker than Amane had prepared for, and he felt the heat welling up from his oesophagus.

Rachel had seemed to like the feeling of her cock bathing in his stomach acid. Valkenhayn, however, this polite old man, he pretended not to notice it, and neither sped nor slowed the lackadaisical but unrelenting movement of his hips. Amane heaved, letting some of the hot, stinging liquid flow over his bottom lip so he could breathe.

“Oh dear,” said Valkenhayn, pulling out of his throat and removing that gentle palm from his head. “My apologies.”

Amane shook his head in the negative and lunged forward, gobbling the butler back up. There was no reason to apologise, in his mind; it’s his own vomit, and he had let it flow. The man cried adorably as Amane tightened his lips around the base of his shaft and drew back, squeezing him between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He enjoyed Valkenhayn’s human-cock rather more than his strange, one-track wolf-cock.

Piston, knot, and slime, so much slime. It was a good time, but he could never do much himself like that. He wanted to thank Valkenhayn copiously for resisting the transformation thus far. Letting him back into his throat, his tongue hugged him tightly on he way out, eliciting a charming old man’s howl, and not a wolf’s, as Valkenhayn spilled his seed down Amane’s gullet.

“N-Nishiki-san… I did it.”

Swallowing all he could, Amane let the cock slip out of his mouth. “I knew you could,” he said. “Did you enjoy my performance?”

“To be sure! Now,” he said, tucking his penis back in his trousers, “I believe you’ve earned a rest.” He held out his hands, and Amane gathered the broom and duster and transferred them to him. Now was his turn to merely watch; but he did have an erection pushing up the pleats of his skirt, and could not resist touching it, deciding to relieve it by his own hand as Valkenhayn turned his attention elsewhere.

His devotion to work, too, was paramount, which Amane lamented a little.

#

Tea this evening took place in an altogether plain room without access to a balcony. Granted, it was still rife with extravagance signified by a great chandelier, a variety of interesting wall-hangings, and a large, white, gold-bordered table hosting four matching chairs—at least one more than they needed unless Rachel had a guest.

An exciting prospect. Amane seated himself expectantly, and Valkenhayn went off to bring tea. Cursing himself for not asking the butler about the possible guest, Amane waited. The chair was softly upholstered and wouldn’t have been difficult to fall asleep in; he decided as much when he began to nod off.

The door opened within view.

Rachel entered, having changed back into yesterday’s strange, slutty attire; and behind her was an unfamiliar face, tonight’s guest. This would be an entertaining night. The guest, between Rachel’s and Amane’s heights, had a head of long, luxuriant pink hair—pink of all colours!—styled in the oddest but most charming of ways to look like two giant, pointed ears at the top. As she approached the table ahead of Rachel, he noticed more details: a split tail, then two, smaller pointed ears, confirming her as at least part beastkin. She possessed, as well, an unpronounceable grace, and a pair of eyeglasses adorning her cute, if in a manner uninviting, face.

The guest did dress shabbily, however, apart from the yellow ribbon tying the longest part of her hair back. She took a seat directly across from Amane and stuck a sucker in her mouth, saying not a word, but staring, her gaze seeming to take account of every centimetre of his face, his hair, and his clothes. Suddenly she turned to face Rachel, resting an elbow on the table. The vampire girl drew near, though she took her time in doing so.

“Amane,” she said as she stood beside the square table, “this is my acquaintance, Kokonoe Mercury, a half-beastkin scientist. She has been watching us without even my knowledge through hidden cameras, and while this was certainly infuriating, it so happens that we possess very similar proclivities.” Rachel sat beside her at the table. “She has offered to join in our fun, free of charge.”

“Hey,” Kokonoe said, twirling her sucker between thumb and forefinger, “I didn’t say I’d do it for free. I need someone to make me coffee, three sugars.”

“Of course. Valkenhayn is on his way with it as we speak. For simplicity’s sake, today’s tea shall be substituted with coffee, three sugars.”

Amane hated coffee, but he had never tried it with sugar. “Pleased to meet you, Kokonoe Mercury-san,” he said, inclining his head respectfully. He really was pleased. The shoddily dressed cat-girl carried an air about her as powerful as Valkenhayn’s, different though it was. With Rachel’s blessing, Amane was prepared to submit entirely.

The cat-girl cast him an oblique glance. “You look like the type to bend to Rachel’s will,” she said. “Unlike Ragna, you’re not a man at all, regardless of what’s between your legs. I guess she’s settled for—ow! Don’t kick my leg, you damn vampire!”

“My humblest apologies,” Rachel said. “I don’t wish to maltreat my honoured guests, but such coprolalia has no place at this board.”

“Point taken. I’ll just let loose when we get down to business.” Kokonoe’s attention drifted back to Amane. “Look forward to it, pretty-boy.”

Rachel intervened, “You’ll have to excuse her, Nishiki-chan. Her taste is in giant meat-heads like that toy of hers, Tager—but if her most confidential resumé is to be believed, she’ll have no trouble satisfying our unique desires as well.”

Just looking at the bespectacled, pink-haired half-beastkin, Amane had known to expect some teasing. It didn’t bother him one bit since, like any performer worth his salt, he had become his role. A silver platter holding four cups of steaming coffee landed on the table between them, and only then did he realise Valkenhayn’s return.

“Three cubes of sugar in each cup, as requested.” The butler gave a curt bow, and sat down beside Amane. It seemed Valkenhayn would play a role in tonight’s final act as well.

Kokonoe leaned in and sniffed her coffee. “Smells about right,” she said, “but you made it too hot. What am I gonna do in the meantime?”

“Really,” said Rachel, “the shut-in doesn’t have any fun idea in the deep, dark recesses of her mind?”

“Well… if I have to suggest something before my next cup, why don’t you stimulate me with your horrifying mouth?” Kokonoe left her seat, stepping out of her trousers and grabbing hold of Rachel’s hair.

“Ah! Don’t be so rough. I’m a good hostess—my mouth is yours.”

Though the cat-girl still wore her black panties, Rachel’s adroit tongue seemed unimpeded by the fabric, and in a second Kokonoe moaned. “You’re pretty good,” she said, “as expected from a bloodsucker. Now stop teasing me.” She pushed Rachel’s head back and pulled aside the front of her panties. “Get your tongue deep in there. I’m _this_ close to developing tonight’s regimen.”

The show was quite stimulating for Amane as well. He turned to Valkenhayn, who sipped his coffee, peeking at the girls with only the faintest signs of interest. Maybe the butler’s uninvolved demeanour concealed the state of his cock. Amane slipped under the table and worked at removing the man’s trousers. Valkenhayn flinched at first, but quickly realised what was about to be done for him.

And as expected, nestled between his unclothed, lean thighs, was a prodigious, twitching erection. Catching it on his tongue, Amane kissed it up and down the shaft as the noises the two girls made became more and more arousing.

“You bit me, you little shit,” Kokonoe muttered.

Between slurps, Rachel replied, “Mm—just a little nibble won’t hurt—doesn’t it quicken your pulse?”

“Ah-h!”

Amane stroked himself as he went down on Valkenhayn under the table. The old man was already releasing pearls of pre-come, which he wasted no time going over with his tongue. Valkenhayn’s hand came down after a moment and pressed the back of his head, inclining him to take the cock all the way into his throat, which he did without hesitation. His gag reflex may have given up the ghost—maybe Rachel would be disappointed in the future. He squeezed tightly with his throat, tongue, and lips, whenever he drew back from the butler’s musky pubic hair.

“Gah!” Valkenhayn exclaimed as he began to shoot four jets of semen over Amane’s tongue, straight towards his throat. Naturally, the performer was ready to swallow. He took care to lap up every last drop.

When he poked his head above the table again, Rachel had taken Gii out from inside her, in its phallic form, and stroked it as her mouth worked at Kokonoe’s snatch. It took the cat-girl a while to notice it.

“W-what the fuck is that thing?!”

Pulling back, Rachel brandished the thing. “This is Gii,” she said. “My servant, and my penis.”

“It’s hideous! Also… Tager’s is bigger.”

Rachel gripped her hard, magical organ by the base, and waggled it. “ _Tager_ is bigger,” she said. “I could make Gii even larger if I wanted, but the disproportion would be farcical. Now why don’t you devour me with your cunt?”

Bursting out laughing, Kokonoe said, “No way! It was risky to even let your tongue inside me, and now you show me that thing… who knows where it’s been? I’d rather do it with your wrinkly old butler!”

“You know… Valkenhayn’s a werewolf. I suppose it would be fitting. I’ve been itching to feel what it’s like in Amane’s bowels anyway.”

His name broke him out of the spell of what he was seeing and hearing. “Huh? In my…” Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Such is the life of a servant. Knowing his role as he did, he even neglected to voice his heartfelt objection to the prospect of Valkenhayn being intimate with Kokonoe. How could he  _compete_ with that fuzzy-eared enchantress? But Valkenhayn, too, was merely a servant.

Things would turn out however Rachel wanted them to. Amane would not fail to enjoy a large part of it. “The question is,” she went on, “are you up to the task?”

Kokonoe shot back, “You think I can’t handle a werewolf, you little slut? Tager has been my toy for a while now—how would  _you_ like to try  _him_ on for size?”

“Enough. You’ve made it abundantly clear how well endowed your companion is. You can have him all to yourself. And just for tonight, you can have my most competent servant as well, since you’re so sure of yourself.”

That girl, Amane reflected, could not conceal her emotions if her undeath depended on it, though it did take more than the usual to stir any. Kokonoe could press a button or two, with such casual vulgarity—and perversely, it endeared her all the more to him.

With a sigh, the cat-girl sat down and began to drink her coffee. After placing the cup back on the table, she leered into it. “Hm,” she grunted. “This is pretty good coffee. Maybe I will show your butler some gratitude.”

“Ah,” said Valkenhayn, some red coming into his papery old cheeks, “I am pleased it is to your liking, Kokonoe-san. Think nothing of it.”

Amane giggled. This whole evening had tickled him, and Valkenhayn flushing like a schoolboy was the last straw. As for the coffee, it tasted rather too sweet to him; too sweet, and too cool. But he finished it. It was certainly the best coffee he’d ever tried.

“Then it’s settled,” Rachel said, leaving the table. She turned to face it, stroking her diabolical erection. “And this tea room is so seldom used, it won’t even have to be cleaned for a while after tonight.”

#

So they would all do everything at once, in one room. He saw the reason in it: Rachel wanted the roles both as performer and as audience member. Such a greedy vampire. He went to join her in an empty area of the room, away from the table, where she stood amid ornate candelabra whose dancing lights enhanced her strange beauty as she waggled her obscene, unnatural organ.

Amane liked her even before she had showed him _that;_ but it did twist things most favourably to a performer, such as he, who specialised in female roles. He got on his knees before her, immediately finding her small hand on his head.

“Nishiki-chan,” she said, “show me your true value as a servant.”

The role of a female servant was one he could see himself playing awhile, although it had to come to an end sooner or later. He would need to return to those boys in his troupe who absolutely depended on his instruction and support, his friendship; and however deeply infatuated he was with Rachel’s butler, however much he wanted to be in that magnanimous man’s possession, _he_ would never be utterly in _his_ possession.

So in the end, this was all fleeting as a dream. Determining to enjoy it to the utmost, he answered Rachel’s challenge with a firm grip and a dripping wet tongue. She moaned cutely, caught off guard by his show of resolve. He wasn’t going to let this thing in his back door without it being slippery as could be.

He heard Kokonoe not far behind him. “Well, on with it, you dirty old man. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

“Ah, I’m doing this for Madame Rachel… not that I don’t find you quite lovely to look upon. Please, do not be alarmed when that change comes over me.”

“Bring it on! This hole’s got the saliva of your damned mistress in it—it’s like wolf pheromones for you, right?”

Unable to resist turning his head, Amane saw that Kokonoe sat on her knees and one arm, facing away from Valkenhayn, her own fingers spreading out her labia; her split tail, pink with two white tips, flailing about agitatedly. He guessed she was as bored a woman as Rachel, after all; and at that moment,  he  felt his hair being tugged upon.

“You can get a good look later, once I’m buried in you to the hilt,” the amiable hostess said. “You _do_ want entry to go smoothly, don’t you?”

Refocusing his attentions on the girl’s great, magical cock, Amane took the glans into his mouth, sucking it ferociously for a brief moment before going back to slicking her shaft, eliciting another adorable utterance. When the organ twitched and pulsated, hard as iron, she pushed his head back.

“Nishiki-chan, the gate of the garden of delight lies open before you. Turn around.”

He turned eagerly. Now, as small hands caressed and groped him here and there, he could see Valkenhayn the wolf thrusting away, the cat-girl panting and moaning, her hips and her tail swaying contentedly under the onslaught. Amane thought he must have been the same way underneath the beast, though perhaps a bit louder. Definitely a bit. The sight made him throb in his heart and his cock, which Rachel soon thereafter gave a harsh tug.

“This is not where the pain ends,” she said. “I’m going in!”

She clutched Amane’s hips, and that thick shaft he’d just made slick came up between his legs, pinning his own member to his belly before slipping out, its tip seeking his arsehole. He relaxed, watching Kokonoe seem to enjoy herself with Valkenhayn on top of her; then, with a stabbing pain, his body admitted Rachel.

The pain began to pass as he ejaculated a small amount, and she eased in deeper. Surprisingly considerate. He burned as he stretched, his spittle hardly sufficient lubrication for such a large, rough organ—not smooth like Valkenhayn’s wolf-cock at all. Despite this, he found his hips moving, urging her on.

“Of all the times to dance,” Rachel said, “you choose to do it when I’m fucking you? My cock makes you that excited?”

More grudgingly than he felt, Amane admitted, “It does.” He pushed back on her, his arse devouring another couple inches of her length, and his half-hard cock spasmed, drivelling. The sounds she kept making also excited him, how cute they were, making him feel almost in control, even as he stood on all fours with her preternatural penis lodged in his rectum.

She must have detected this perception of his; a hostess determined to keep in charge, she gave his buttocks a good, hard squeeze with both hands and thrust, and his abdomen strained against what she forced inside. It felt a little dangerous. If she killed him with her cock, he had some confidence she’d make him a bloodsucker like herself. He couldn’t be sure which way he wanted it at the moment. Her cock withdrew slightly, and she started fucking him proper.

“Hah,” she gasped, “I never expected a tart like you to remain so tight for me, even after Valkenhayn...”

He’d never been called a tart before, though it kind of fit. They used that for whores, didn’t they? Performers not entirely dissimilar to himself, though their dances lacked in art. Every inch of Amane’s body could perform.

“Ah—you just got tighter!” Rachel observed. “I’ll make sure to fuck your obstinate anus into total submission.”

And this she fairly did. Within minutes of friction, whatever strength he had left in his stinging passage had departed him, so that he’d become little better than a cheap toy, one of those pliable fake cunts for masturbatory purposes. He felt boring all of a sudden, though Rachel showed no signs of boredom, making disconcerting bulges in his abdomen with her cock. Meanwhile, it seemed Valkenhayn had knotted inside Kokonoe and begun to change back into a weary human form.

The cat-girl panted, breathless, looking exhausted in her limbs, though Amane imagined Valkenhayn may have finished too quickly to be satisfactory. Rachel slid her hands up to Amane’s waist and thrust fast and deep, filling his bowels with the smelly, semen-like goo that was the product of her phallic familiar. He himself ejaculated again as she pulled out.

With a smack to Amane’s hip, she said, “This felt better than I expected. Truly, your body was made for it.”

“Ah,” he sighed, feeling all used up. “Thanks… Rachel-sama.” He could think of no more appropriate way to respond to such a judgement than to take it as a compliment, knowing how far from one it was. It felt good, to be used and belittled by the vampire girl.

He stood, with some effort—taking something in his arse always made his legs weak, to say nothing of the rough fuck he’d just gone through. Kokonoe had got to her feet as well, and looked at him, clearly amused as rivulets of wolf-come ran down her thighs. Her gaze shifted to Rachel, now off to his side, and she spoke.

“The results were satisfying enough, but your old wolf can’t keep up with me. I’ve got something in the works that he nor even Tager could hope to match, let alone a little slut with an ugly strap-on.”—Rachel sneered at her words—“I’ll have the two of you test it for me. An immortal and an obvious pro, the ideal test subjects. That’s my plan. I promise you’ll like it.”

Stepping forward, Rachel replied, “What, pray tell, are you blathering about? At this point your promise is emptier than empty, a word for its own sake.”

“Just a little toy I made with my science. Except it’s not little at all, and it can be enjoyed as a group activity, or so I intend. It’s difficult to describe beyond its functions: automatic, relentless, maddening pounding of all your sloppy holes.”

“All of them?”

“At once. And more than one to a hole, if you can handle it.”

Rachel giggled curtly. “It’s not beneath my pretty manservant, I’ll say; certainly, you will have me as a spectator.”

The cat-girl’s confidence never faded from her features. Probably, she expected Rachel to bend completely to her will before long. This would be interesting to see through.

“I don’t object to such a proposal,” he said, unsure if anyone heard him, and fairly sure that none cared. He had consented at the door, after all. He had consented to it all.


	4. Chapter 4

He felt he had really died, been obliterated, wiped from the memory of the earth. But the next thing he knew, he stood in a cold, strange place, lit too dimly to make out anything more than the familiar figures beside him. Rachel, Kokonoe. The cat-girl snapped her fingers, and bright, electrical lights illuminated a steely, cluttered existence. A kind of office with machines, grey like an overcast sky, spotted with brightly blinking stars that were not stars.

Such an unbeautiful sight inspired a sense of dread in Amane, especially after his brief unmaking. All of it, he surmised, was orchestrated by the hateful hand of science.

Kokonoe smacked his cheek. “Snap out of it,” she said. “You know who you are, right?”

“H-huh? Of course, I’m Amane Nishiki, leader of a troupe of talented travelling performers. At least, until I let my urges get the better of me...”

“Good, nothing wrong with the teleport then. It can be risky business, being dispersed into particles for extra-dimensional travel. Your body, your brain, and everything you’re wearing, is nothing but a copy based on an ad hoc blueprint, while your original body was destroyed. But you’re still the same foolish boy, and now you’re here.”

“Are you quite done?” said Rachel. “We didn’t go through that dreadful aberration just so you could run your mouth.”

“Right, you came to get fucked along with your servant. Follow me.”

The vampire twitched with anger, almost uttered a retort. An impotent, bothered grunt was all she mustered. Amane found it adorable, and reassuring; he wouldn’t be the cat-girl’s only plaything. They walked.

Lonely, metal corridors enveloped them awhile, then they stopped at a door with a keypad beside it, where Kokonoe input a code to open the way. “This is where I keep it,” she said.

“Not even a little discreet,” said Rachel.

“You don’t even know where this place is—just shut up and enjoy it.”

The room lit up. There were no drastic differences from what Amane had so far seen of the depressing hideaway, except that a good portion of the centre was taken up by a twisted, black, rubbery mass that throbbed and ever so slightly writhed; it radiated innumerable tendrils which twitched and, Amane thought, drivelled something from their tips.

With a short gasp, Rachel remarked, “It smells. Pray tell, what on earth did you make it out of?”

“This and that. Vat-grown meat, tendons; sensory apparatuses of dogs and octopi. A biological machine for our pleasure.”

The abomination found itself thankfully tethered, though Amane doubted it’d mean much if he caught its eye—or whatever it used. It looked like a living, breathing thing, but at the same time, it very well shouldn’t be. He had consented to it all—he was such an idiot sometimes. Valkenhayn, whose charms had led him so astray, was not even present in his time of doubt.

“Filth,” Rachel said. “Nishiki-chan,”—she turned to him—“why don’t you clean it up, the same way you cleaned Gii.” She stroked her cock as she spoke.

“The man would suffice as a test subject,” agreed Kokonoe.

No escape. He took some small steps towards his fate, examining it more closely. Its writhing grew more lively, or so it seemed, the long, phallic appendages lifting themselves half-heartedly only to flop back down with a soft, somewhat squishy thud. The beast had no eyes to look into, though it may have had several nostrils on its body, dilating here and there; it sent out thinner tendrils in search, knowing where he stood, caressing his legs, coiling around his thighs. Slippery, sharp tendrils—it  seemed to use these to feel its way around. Like slender tongues they tasted his butt, his balls, and his cock, now almost painfully hard as he anticipated what was to come.

The girls traded indiscernible whispers behind him, as if trying to ensure he knew of his spectators without being distracted by them. A skilful audience. The thin tendrils explored more of his body as he stepped closer to the centre, almost tripping over one of the huge, phallic ones. All of its “nostrils” were dilated now, and his dilated in turn, taking in its rank odour, a similar kind of exciting foulness to the one Gii oozed, but much stronger, overwhelming even. His legs became weak, but by then some long, prehensile penises had come to support him: one wrapped around his waist, another for each of his limbs.

The sharp, slender ones that weren’t phallic at all introduced themselves to his anus and, painfully, his urethra, as the ones that really interested him lifted him off the floor and spread his legs. They throbbed hotly, constricting him; he minded little how the slender ones squeezed and tore into his cock, stabbing his testicles. The pain made it even more exciting. In his arse they were but a slimy tickle; preparing the way, he thought.

He cried as a strange sensation surfaced over the pain—his balls began to feel crowded, heavy. “What is this…,” he articulated, “what is  it putting in my balls?!”

“Don’t worry,” Kokonoe half-shouted from near the entrance, “it thinks it’s depositing eggs. At least, that would justify its instincts. They can’t be fertilised—I only made one of the damned things, after all. How does it feel?”

“Agh...” He found himself beginning to struggle, very weakly. He wasn’t going anywhere, when he thought about it. “It feels… weird,” he mumbled, only to have small tendrils hook into his cheeks, under his tongue; they held his mouth agape to make way for one of their much thicker brethren, which shoved itself in on cue.

His genitals were on fire, but somehow, he didn’t mind that part so much. What bothered him was how his scrotum must be sagging with the weight of whatever was being deposited. He didn’t want to see.

“It isn’t very painful, is it?” she seemed to have heard him. “The slime diminishes pain reception. You wouldn’t have the luxury of being weirded out without it.”

“Hey,” Rachel said, “I did you the favour of being present. Why don’t you give Gii a good shining?”

Kokonoe  laughed curtly . “Never mind that I wouldn’t put such a disgusting thing in my mouth—isn’t it just too vanilla for someone of your refined tastes?”

At that moment, Amane heard a scuffle, and he couldn’t muster the energy nor the curiosity to turn his head and see; all he could focus on was the dull, sensual pain in his cock and balls, that weird feeling of sagging heaviness, and the thick, wrinkly and slippery occupant of his mouth, whose strong taste he could not name. Another of the large, cock-like appendages tried to squeeze itself in between the thin tendrils in his arse, and his attention was partway divided.

Had any woman, he thought, ever experienced pleasure  such as this?  It was a weird, otherworldly assault on his senses that surmounted any treatment he’d had by another individual. Science was good for something, after all.

Rachel’s scantily clad form flew past his view. The landing was not graceful; she’d been thrown into a mass of idle tentacles which came alive on contact, caressing and besliming her body, her monstrous pseudo-penis. She shrieked a curse, and made a promise: “You’ll regret this, filthy grimalkin!”

But it didn’t mean much as the creeping tendrils explored her body, quickly finding choice orifices.

“I won’t regret shit. You’re my toy now. I may let your servant go if he’s well behaved, but you, never.” Kokonoe laughed loudly. “I never thought such a thorn in my side could be extracted in such a stupid way! Enjoy the rest of eternity, you underdeveloped slut.”

So the barely-friendly erotic get-together had been a ploy. Amane wanted to laugh himself, but thought better of it, seeing Rachel struggle helplessly before him. The sharp, thin tendrils stuffed the urethra of her gigantic, almost pitch-black cock; it quivered and drivelled its own thick slime in response, and Rachel cried, clearly able to feel everything that happened to Gii in this state. Her arsehole was being prodded as well, and the seam around Gii’s base.

As Amane watched, his heart thumping with even more excitement, one of the arm-sized drivelling phalluses had pushed into his anus and begun winding past his rectum, stirring his shit, his guts; he really was nothing but a toy now, but he enjoyed being played with in this way. He hoped his haughty mistress would grow accustomed as well, at least for a little while.

He’d almost begun to feel sorry for her when he tasted sick in his mouth. Something in his chest, a straining deep in his throat; an airway constricted. What had gone in his backside came up into his mouth, with a bit of vomiting to announce it. It slithered along the one already poking at his tongue and uvula, which pressed on past it, seeming to have been given  the signal to do so.

Two of those things now occupied his mouth, his throat; he felt the strain on his body, but not as pain. There was only a sense of absurdity, and pleasure in the extreme. In his contortions, he saw Kokonoe by the doorway, watching him and Rachel with a cruel smile while she diddled herself adroitly. A Goddess, he thought, though of what he could not guess. His half-erect genitals, stuffed full of foreign objects, quivered and drivelled as he burned inside with a passion for his predicament.

A performer’s body could go through a lot for everyone’s pleasure.

The vampire girl was not a performer, but she  _was_ immortal. That had to prepare her for all manner of things. Her face turned red as a huge organ stuffed it, and tears ran down her cheeks. It really turned Amane on, to see her in such a way while his own body was violated in equal or greater measure. He shouldn’t have expected more than this glimpse.

“Hrnyaa!” the air thundered. A flying sword materialised in a poof of smoke, hacking through tendrils here and there. Amane felt the strength leave the organs that suspended him, one by one, and he began to come down.

“What the fuck is that thing?!” the catgirl demanded. When Amane’s butt hit the floor, cushioned by lifeless bits of monstrous organs, he looked over at her, still going to work on herself in spite of the sudden chaos.

“This slight won’t go unpunished,” Rachel announced with a tremble in her voice as the ferocious, living sword set her free—she remained suspended by her own magic. Then everything that existed around Amane melted away. A teleportation, different from how he got here. For one thing, it didn’t fill him with a sense of certainty that he had died and been put back together, not quite the same person.

The tea room they had left behind, stains and all, suddenly surrounded him. He felt safe, even though he hadn’t believed himself in any real danger to begin with. Then he saw Rachel scowling directly up at him not three steps away. And as if on cue, a shock of pain emanated from his genitals, reminding him of the foreign objects inside.

As if that wasn’t enough, the huge, black, cat-like familiar stood behind Rachel, glaring at him accusingly. The feeling of security passed quick.

“I trust you know this is all your fault,” Rachel said. Then her eyelids fell. “Nago?”

“H-hime-sama?”

“Restrain him.”

The creature didn’t need to be told twice. The pain Amane was in, he was helpless to resist, and soon found himself bound to an uncomfortable, black chair, hard as concrete. His restraints were made of the same angry familiar, spreading his legs and ensuring he couldn’t even wiggle his wrists. His egg-stuffed cock twitched painfully, the strange situation arousing him nearly as much as the one they had just escaped.

Rachel knelt between his thighs, lifting his tiny skirt and roughly handling his pregnant sex organ. He winced, but otherwise remained still, anticipating her punishment. “I’m sorry,” he sighed arbitrarily, unsure of the meaning but feeling it appropriate. She squeezed his balls, making him cry.

“They’re not coming out,” she said, referring to the tiny eggs filling his balls and cock. “I doubt even urine could expel them. As a good mistress, the least I could do before determining your fate is help you recover your form.”

First hiking up his skirt so she could use both of her hands, she clasped them together, radiating an eerie red light. When the glow faded, her palms faced the ceiling, bearing six little rods, three in each. The instruments, each topped with a decorative bat-like sculpture, were thin enough, and about the right length, for him to guess what she intended to do with them.

She held his cock steady, using her teeth to take a rod out of the bunch in her other hand, to carry its tip over to Amane’s piss-hole. His cock was in enough pain already that he didn’t think much of it as she pressed it in. When it began to heat and crackle with electricity, he advanced to another grade of delirium.

“Ah!” he cried. “Is this… punishment?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m simply using what tools I have available to aid you. Does it really hurt so badly?”

Truthfully, even the electric shocks hardly seemed to augment the pain he was in. “I don’t need something to bite down on,” he admitted. “Even so… how will this help?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she jammed another rod in. His cock had become quite hard, in spite of everything. Another jolt of electricity struck him all the way down to his balls, and it felt like a punch to the gut, but not an excruciatingly painful one. He decided remnants of the creature’s numbing slime must linger on or inside his body. His erect cock twitched, almost, it seemed, in expectation of the third rod as she made ready to insert it.

“Y-you’re not going to try fitting all of them in, are you?”

“I’m going to try. It feels necessary. You _do_ want the eggs out.”

“But how…” He couldn’t even finish the thought behind his question as another shock made him wince and cry. Would he be able to use his legs after all of this? Would he still be able to dance?

When she had four in, she said, “My, do you have a resilient body. You’re not even bleeding yet.”

He had put his body through a lot of conditioning, but never anything to do with his urethra…

She squeezed in the fifth. He knew not even the monster at Kokonoe’s place had stretched him so far—Rachel seemed intent on outdoing her in all regards. Another jolt of lightning struck his groin; a spasm ran throughout his restrained limbs and he bit his tongue.

“Behave yourself, Nishiki-chan. There’s only one to go.”

And so it went, slowly, so as not to destroy his cock—at least not more than it already had been. On top of everything else, he felt a sudden burning sensation as the sixth rod penetrated his urethra. A stream of piss squirted out over Rachel’s hair and face.

“Mmh!” She shut her eyes tight and turned her face away, trying to block the stream with her hands. The sight tickled Amane, even in his present state; he guessed vampires weren’t allergic to water, after all. When he had emptied his bladder of its liquid contents, she told him, “You are the worst, most unkempt servant I have ever had, Amane Nishiki. In the beginning, I was taken in by your show, but now I see your true colours.”

“I’m sorry,” he said once more, failing to extinguish that littlest trace of mirth in his voice. “Truly, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He tasted the blood from his bitten tongue as he spoke.

“You’re lucky I was going to bathe after this anyway, you pitiful bitch of a man.” All at once, she gripped the tops of the rods lodged in his cock, giggling as she swivelled and twisted them, making him cry out in pain. “There should be enough space to administer the potion now.” She stood, looking down at the magical strap-on still attached to her body. “Gii?” she said to her cock. “Shrink down. Just a tiny bit.”

The purplish-black thing shrank before his eyes. Just a tiny bit.

“That’s good. Now,” Rachel said, gripping the tops of the rods again, more tightly, “let’s see your pretty new fuck-hole.” And all at the same time, she pulled them out of him, out of his cock, which was now a gaping-ended, erect tube of flesh. He’d have been able to fit three fingers in his urethra now if he tried, without even stretching it further. He felt a frightening certainty that it’d never go back to normal. “Oh, it’s almost perfect for the procedure,” she continued, sticking a finger inside his stretched-out urethra and feeling around. He shuddered. “I can just about get in—your elasticity should take care of the rest.”

She was going to fuck his urethra with her monstrous organ. He accepted it, for he could do nothing to stop it. After this, he thought, he’d never be able to fill the role of a man again. His cock resembled a prolapsed cunt. Wouldn’t that be a fun thing to have between one’s legs? He couldn’t think seriously about anything any longer.

The vampire girl handled his tube, sensitive as his penis ever was, and aimed her own cock at its entrance, its mouth. She said, “You’re ready for me to administer the solution, I can tell.” Then she squeezed into him like a two-sizes-too-small male masturbation toy, and he caught himself sobbing, though the agony of his urethra stretching wider and wider to admit her couldn’t explain it fully. It was somehow touching, how now he could be fucked in the front just as in the back.

He felt the head of her cock hit his unnaturally swollen testes, and moaned; he would have doubled over from the pain had he not been restrained in a concrete chair. It nearly caused him to vomit. She pulled him over her, pressing further in, excruciatingly; he thought he was going to faint, but he did not, and remained fully aware as she pulled herself back out, only to slam in to his balls again.

When she got into a rhythm of fucking his urethra with her massive fake penis, he became ecstatic in spite of everything and orgasmed. Unable to leave his body, all the spending did was lubricate her penis. It began to feel pleasant, her cock sliding to and fro inside of his . “Nago,” she panted, “stop being useless and make this boy come again. The glide is heavenly.”

Amane had almost forgot the chair in which he sat was a living creature when the words made sense to him. With a grudging deliberateness, a spiral projection from his seat twisted into his welcoming arsehole. From that alone, he convulsed with a small orgasm. Rachel’s cock squelched inside his urethra, filling him with an overwhelming sense of… what? Pleasure? Rightness. Justice. He moaned like a woman, tears rolling down his cheeks; this went beyond mere pleasure for him.

“I can feel it,” said the immortal mistress. “Gii swelling up, about to explode inside. Nishiki-chan, kiss me.” She leaned forward while fucking the inside of his cock raw.

He craned his neck obediently, bringing his lips to hers, kissing her the best way he knew how, which involved a lot of tongue. She sucked his tongue, nipped it with her fangs and sucked the blood this let. He came again, moaning into her mouth, and her hips moved faster, driving her phallic familiar into his stinging, slimy piss-tube, until at last, separating her face from his, she cried cutely, pumping magical semen into his wide open penis.

It burned, but the pain from this he could not really distinguish from anything else he felt. She told him, subtly convulsing with her orgasm, “This is a magic potion, made to order just for your predicament. It will enter your testes and your bladder, and expel the foreign objects. How does it feel?”

Oh, what innocent curiosity. “Feels…,” he answered, “thick… viscous and hot. I don’t mind the burning.”

“You wouldn’t. But the burning’s good—it’s doing its job. Ah, but I hope you never intended to have children.”

Never, he thought to himself. He’d been schooled from an early age on the evil inherent in the act of bringing new life, a new being to think and feel and suffer, into this world. Sure, there was pleasure to be had as well, experiences and accomplishments nothing short of sublime—but such gifts of existence fell to rare souls. Amane Nishiki would never have taken the chance.

His entire abdominal area throbbed with excruciating pain, enough to make him scream as he never remembered doing. It seemed to startle Rachel for a moment; then, smirking, she redoubled the strength of her grip around the outside of his cock, using now both hands, squeezing it around her own. “Your very presence, Amane Nishiki, caused me to let my guard down, to let something in that might’ve been the end of me. While undoubtedly helping you, this treatment is also my retribution.”

He managed to calm himself, listening to her voice. Regardless of what she said, it relaxed him to hear her speak. Anon, she loosened her grip, and began to pull her organ out of his. He felt as if his insides were on fire, quite literally, though he grew numb to it quickly. His cock now hung loose and limp and empty, his urethral entrance quivering, as if attempting but unable to contract.

Then he had to piss, or so it initially felt. Instead, a thick, lumpy ooze began to drivel from the mouth of his penis. Batches upon batches of slimy eggs. The cure had worked. He waited it out, looking down at himself, at his ruined cock as it laid eggs. Rachel watched with an amused interest—not that of a child, but that of the bored heiress that she was.

“Looks like a stillbirth,” she quipped, turning her back to him. “If only we could try again.”

She has a delightful posterior for someone so small, he found himself first thinking. Then, as his cock spat another few glistening, tiny eggs, the meaning of her words hit him. “You’re throwing me out?”

“I’ve no other choice. Your whimsical behaviour is a contagion as much as it is a liability. You served me well, up till now. Goodbye, Nishiki-chan.”

“W-wait—I must meet Valkenhayn-sama one last time!”

She giggled, then said, “I’ll make sure he’s the one to see you out. Wait just a moment.”

#

The old butler solemnly guided Amane into the foyer. There the men stopped, and faced each other.

Amane held the clothes he came here with close to his chest, shivering as he still donned his new latex accoutrements in the cold space. “I don’t know what to say…”

The wolf-butler caught him off guard with a sudden embrace. He forgot everything in those strong, warm arms, and let his bundle of clothing fall to the floor. Then Valkenhayn murmured, “This won’t be a final goodbye. I can reason with Rachel-sama about visitation.” The words elicited a twinge of pain from Amane’s ruined cock.

“I would like that very much,” he replied, “but you needn’t try so hard. I have a troupe to look after, and to look after me. I promise I won’t be lonely.”

Valkenhayn squeezed his body tight. “Nishiki-san… don’t an old man’s feelings matter just as much as your own?” A hand slipped down Amane’s back and fondled a buttock.

“I suppose we could do our last act, for the time being, right here in this foyer.” He couldn’t help bending to the wolf-butler’s will, even if he had just tasted hell. Slipping out of Valkenhayn’s grasp, he got on his knees, pleased to greet a considerable bulge in the front of the man’s trousers. He grasped and rubbed it through the fabric.

“A-ah, Nishiki-san… your very touch makes me feel a score of years younger.”

Though immeasurably pleased to hear such a thing, Amane said nothing, and focused instead on freeing the venerable, brown organ from the buttoned trousers. He pulled it, already half erect, out of the fly, teasing its tip with his tongue while stroking the wrinkly shaft till it grew thick and tight. When the unfurling foreskin revealed its secrets, he said, “Oh, Valkenhayn-sama, you’ve accumulated quite a bit of smegma in the short time we’ve been apart!”

“As you can see, I am in dire need of your ministrations.” He laid a gentle palm on Amane’s head.

The performer responded to the cue, opening his mouth and letting the dirty cock in along his tongue, washing it here and there. When Valkenhayn’s hairy old balls touched his chin, he used his fingers to play with them, even as his throat became a cunt. He hardly shed a tear, his gag reflex having been all but extinguished amid recent events.

Before long he let out a pathetic groan, and beslimed the back of Amane’s throat. Drawing back, Amane licked a droplet from the tip of the butler’s cock; a bitter-sweet farewell.

His troupe really needed him, he thought, standing. It felt like an ongoing revelation, although it would have been quite obvious from the outset if not for his blind lust. “Valkenhayn,” he said. “I hope some day you can bring your mistress all the same pleasure you brought me.”

The old man looked like he was going to choke, then burst out laughing. Amane wasn’t going to give this much thought. He felt good about it, and didn’t even care that there was no sign of his cock starting to return to normal. The boys will get a real kick out of this, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
